Standing in the smoke
I was explaining something to a friend.
A frustration I'd been circling for weeks.
Halfway through, they tilted their head.
Said something obvious.
And I stopped.
Not because it was clever.
Because it wasn't.
The answer had been sitting there the whole time.
I was just too close to see it.
We stare at our own fires so long we forget we're standing in the smoke.
Eyes stinging. Vision blurred.
Wondering why nothing looks right.
Sometimes you don't need advice.
You need someone far enough away to see the shape of it.
Distance isn't always measured in metres.
Sometimes it's just another pair of eyes.
Sometimes it takes someone else's eyes to see what's been burning. Distance isn't always physical.
